


Never Know What Hit You ~ Day 1

by kaitlia777



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Spoiler fic, TW: School Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Based on the 4x18 rumors ~ There’s a shooting at McKinley.  I don’t want anyone to die, but maybe someone could get hurt (Blaine or Sam) and the other is just beside themselves.</p><p>TW: School shooting violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Sorry for any typos. My transcription software doesn’t always understand what I say and I don’t always catch the mistakes. I have trouble typing things by hand since I suffered an injury last year to my right hand and it seizes up if I try to do too much.

They were in the library when things went crazy (which was saying a lot at McKinley), as a wild eyed freshman, burst through the doors and said, “They've got guns!”

Almost as soon as she finished speaking, loud cracks filled the air and paniced shouts filtered in from the hall. Students dove to the floor and Blaine found himself being yanked out of his chair.

“Back exit,” Sam said, dragging Blaine, Tina and Sugar with him into the maze of bookshelves and study corrals. They were moving quickly, crouched down, and nearly at the door when more gunfire sounded, obviously inside the library itself and someone (more than one) cried out.

Sam hit the door hard and fast, slamming bodily into the release bar that would open the emergency exit, but the door didn't move. More deliberately, he tried again, putting his body weight into it... But there was no luck.

“Oh God, God,” Sugar murmured and, shaking, Tina wrapped her arms around her.

“It's locked,” Blaine said, not really understanding. “Why would someone….”

“Get down,” Sam interrupted, shoving Tina and Sugar into the minimal shelter offered by a boxy, old study corral. Blaine scrambled in with them, trying to cover them as best he could and he felt Sam press himself against his back.

They huddled there, biting back any noises of fear and shaking, listening to cries of pain and terror as the occasional shot rang out.

“Hey, Sam.”

Blaine felt Sam go tense, but he replied evenly. “Simon…Shit. This is….”

“I know, right?” the boy -- the shooter, or rather one of them, someone was still firing – said, sounding almost giddy. “Making the bullies and assholes pay, aren't I?”

“You're shooting people!” Sam replied and now there was a little anger in his tone.

“Only people who deserve it,” the shooter sneered. “I wasn't planning on hurting you. You're not a bad guy. Who are you protecting?”

He was protecting them, placing his broad frame between Blaine, Tina and Sugar and the gunman, and Blaine shuddered in fear for him, for all of them, fingers grasping at Sam's shirt.

“My friends,” Sam replied simply and the shooter snorted.

“Would you die for them?”

“Yes,” Sam uttered without hesitation and Blaine reacted, arm sliding around Sam and trying futilely to pull him deeper into the tiny alcove.

There was a pause. “And that's why you all get to live. Hope they appreciate you.”

Footsteps moved away from them and Tina and Sugar tried to keep their sobs of relief muffled. Blaine simply clutched at Sam, unable to believe he managed to keep his wits. Sam squeezed his hand briefly, then murmured, “Stay down.”

Before Blaine could question that, Sam slid out of his grasp and threw himself into one of the bookcases, causing it and several beside it to fall like dominoes. There was a shout of surprise and the clatter of metal and Sam dove across the floor.

Then time seemed to speed up.

A second gunman appeared, aiming a weapon at Sam, who rolled onto his back, arm coming up. The retort of gunfire so close was almost deafening in the shooter fell like a sack of potatoes, even as Sam's whole body jerked on the floor.

Later, Blaine realized that the shooter Sam had called Simon had lost hold of his gun when the stacks fell on him. Sam grabbed that weapon and turned it on shooter number two…but took a bullet himself in the process.

“Sam!” Blaine yelped, scrambling out from under the desk and crawling over to him. “Sam, please be okay. Please….”

“Holy shit, this hurts!” Sam gasped, gritting his teeth his tears rolled down his cheeks. “Oh, fuck….”

It looked like Sam had been hit in the shoulder, the almost stereotypical injury from every war/cop/western TV show or movie ever created. Unlike fictional heroes, Sam didn't seem to be shrugging it off as nothing.

And there was a lot more blood than the TV shows would lead you to believe.

Stripping off his cardigan, Blaine pressed it to Sam's shoulder, half in the front, half in the back, causing him to cry out. He was vaguely aware of Tina joining him and grabbing Sam's hand and Sugar stepping over the gunman and kicking his guns away before shouting, “Did anyone lock the door?”

There were still distant muffled shots audible and a shaky voice respond to Sugar. “No.”

“Well, lock them! Shove desks in front of them!”

Blaine wasn't quite sure where Sugar had found a surprise reserve of steely strength, but he was glad she had.

Tina had her phone out and began to speak. “They had guns! My friend was shot,” she said, voice hitching. “We’re in the library and they just came in….”

“Are you at McKinley High?”

Ah, speaker phone.

“Yes.”

“Are the shooters present?”

“We can still hear shots,” Blaine said, “But the two that were in here…one is buried under bookshelves and the other….”

“He's dead,” Sugar said, dropping to her knees beside Tina. “We locked the doors and some kids are barricading them. There are like a dozen kids shot… I don't know how many are….”

“Officers are responding,” the 911 operator assured them. “Medics will be in to assist you as soon as the scene has been secured. Now, you said your friend was shot. What's their name?”

“I'm Sam,” Sam grunted, voice strained. “Sam Evans.”

“Sam I am,” Tina said softly, smiling down at him.

“Sam, it's good to hear your voice. That's a good sign. But try to reserve your strength okay. My name is Ruth and I'm going to ask your friends to help me assess you. Where was he shot?”

“Right shoulder. The bullet went through and I'm trying to put pressure on the entrance and exit wounds,” Blaine replied, knowing stopping the blood loss was important.

“Is he having any difficulty breathing?”

“Uh, I don't think so,” Blaine answered. “He's breathing a little fast, but he's in a lot of pain.”

“All right. How is his color?”

“He’s pale and clammy and sweating,” Blaine said and Sam tried to shift under his hands.

“We need… We need to go,” Sam said, sounding a little confused. “Not safe….”

Blaine looked down into his eyes and said, “Sam, it's okay. Don’t move. We’re fine now.”

Okay, so they weren’t exactly safe, but the two shooters were down in the library…and the gun shots seemed to have stopped.

“With any injury like this, some confusion is normal,” the 911 operator said calmly. “Could one of you check Sam's pulse?”

Tina shifted her grip, fingers searching for the requested pulse. After a minute, she said, “It feels too fast and maybe not strong as it should be.”

“All right, just keep pressure on the wound and let me know if his respiration or pulse change. There are reports that the building is secure, so paramedics should be with you shortly.”

Not long after she said that, there was pounding on the doors and people shouting outside, identifying themselves as police officers.

“There are people at the door, saying they’re police,” Sugar told Ruth. “Should we let them in?”

“Yes. Those are officers and first responders.”

That was Sugar needed to hear and she was up, running to the door and saying, “C’mon people, let's move the tables again!”

Sam's blood was hot and sticky, seeping through Blaine's sweater and staining his hands, but Blaine held fast. “Help is here, Sam,” he murmured and Sam's eyes met his, clearing for a moment. “Everything is going to be all right.”

Police and paramedics swarmed into the room and Blaine soon found himself being eased aside as the professionals took over, assessing Sam quickly as a pair of police officers hauled the dazed but alive shooter out from under the bookshelves.

Another gave Tina and Blaine a concerned look. “You two should evac with the others if you are unharmed, but could one of you tell me what happened in here?”

“The emergency door was locked,” Tina murmured. “We hid in one of the study corrals….”

“One of the gunmen found us and he started talking to Sam… Sam was bigger than us, he was trying to shield us and Simon -- that's his name-- he said he didn't want to hurt Sam, because Sam is nice… He's the nicest guy….”

“He asked if Sam would die for us,” Tina interrupted Blaine, gazing down at Sam. “He said yes.”

“And Simon walked away into the stacks, I guess,” Blaine continued. “Sam knocked the bookshelves onto him….”

“His gun when sliding across the floor,” Sugar added. “Sam grabbed it just as that one,” she pointed at the dead gunmen, “showed up.”

“They both fired,” Blaine finished as the paramedics eased Sam onto a stretcher. “I'm going with him. Tina, Sugar, can you call Burt and Carole and let the rest of the club know?”

The girls nodded as Blaine stepped over and took Sam's good hand, immeasurably relieved to feel him grasp back at him. He hurried along beside the stretcher, blanching at the number of smeared pools of blood and sets of medics still hovering over students... And a few people, lying so still that it was obvious they were gone.

It was worse in the halls, linoleum slippery, the smell of copper and sulfur heavy in the air. The sounds of people weeping echoed in Blaine wondered if he was going into shock just as they merged into the bright March sun. 

Outside the school was a circus of ambulances, police vehicles, a couple firetrucks (and all the accompanying personnel), students and teachers and parents… Some with more minor wounds were clustered in a group, obviously waiting for medical attention. Most looked dazed, like they couldn't understand what it happened and many were in tears.

The last time a major school shooting had made the news, Cooper had been in town and, with uncharacteristic gravity, he had said that, back when he was in school, no one worried about school shootings, as it just didn't happen very often. Coop had been a senior when Columbine happened and things just seem to change.

Honestly, Blaine never thought it would happen, but, in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't in impossibility… Even so, he could barely believe it.

Climbing into the ambulance, Blaine tried to stay out of medic’s way even as he clung to Sam's hand, both his own coated in Sam's blood. An oxygen mask was fitted over Sam's lower face and he was breathing a bit easier since the medic had given him something for the pain. Eyes unfocused, he blinked at Blaine.

“You're going to be fine, Sam,” Blaine repeated, voice shaking. “You really scared me, you know? You were so brave in there….”

Sam tugged weakly on Blaine's hand, trying to pull him closer. Blaine complied, seeing Sam's mouth move under the mask but not able to hear him. Leaning in, he tried to protest when Sam pulled the oxygen mask down, but was cut off when Sam touched his cheek and drew him in for a soft little kiss.

The kiss, as unexpected as it was, was very grounding and Blaine felt slightly less adrift when he leaned back. Poleaxed, but less shocky and more focused. Sam smiled a little bit and breathed, “We’re okay.”

He was still very close to Sam and nearly jumped when the mask was placed back over Sam's nose and mouth. Blinking, he looked at the paramedic, who smiled kindly.

“The mask needs to stay on,” she said to Sam, checking his pulse again. “You can kiss your boyfriend later, after the doctors patch you up.”

Blaine flushed. “We're not… He's my bro!”

Giving him a doubtful look, she said, “Hey, no judgments.”

“He's straight.”

From under the mask, Sam's voice was muffled, but audible. “Don't label me, bro.”

Not quite knowing how to deal with that statement, Blaine asked, “Do you want me to call your parents?”

Sam's eyes widened and he nodded. With the hand not clutching Sam's, Blaine pulled out his phone. Sam had given him his parent’s numbers for emergency use months ago and this certainly qualified.

**  
**  
**

Finn and Puck were in Burt’s garage, working on a couple of cars that were in for tuneups, when a news report flashed on the shop TV, interrupting a rerun of Castle. Both young men felt their blood run cold as Rod Remington spoke about shots being fired at McKinley High School

**  
**  
**

Sitting in a rather boring music theory class, Kurt was shocked when Rachel, pale and wide eyed, flung herself into the room. “Kurt! Kurt, we have to… Sorry, Professor Cairnes!... McKinley… There's been a shooting!”

She practically hauled him out of his seat, as he froze, not even registering the looks of concern from his teacher and classmates alike. Though they might not have been more than dear friends anymore, all Kurt could think was Blaine.

**  
**  
**

Just leaving a great modern jazz class, Mike was surprised when Karina, one of his dorm mates, looked up from her phone and asked, “Hey, Mike, where did you go to high school again?”

Stretching his arms, he replied, “McKinley High in Lima, Ohio. Why?”

Grim faced, she handed him her phone and what he saw made his heart stop and one thought filled his mind.

Tina.

**  
**  
**

Avidly listening to her professor discuss the significance of the Bible as an influential piece of literature, Quinn saw a Google alert pop up on the corner of her laptop screen… And another… And another.

Curious, she opened the link and gasped so loudly that no less than a dozen of her classmates turned to look at her.

**  
**  
**

Sitting in a coffee shop in LA, Mercedes stared at the TV in shock, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen.

What they were saying… It just seemed unreal.

Her phone rang and she grabbed it up, frowning at the unfamiliar number. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mercedes, right? This is Cooper Anderson. Have you seen…?”

“I'm watching it now.”

“Blaine gave me her number when you moved out here, for emergencies I guess. I'm jumping on the first flight back to Ohio. You want to come?”

“Hell yes.”

**  
**  
**

“Santana! Wake up!”

Groaning, Santana buried her face in her pillow. She'd worked late the night before and was not happy that Kurt’s British playmate was bothering her. She much preferred the days when everyone else in the loft had classes and she had the place to herself. “Go away.”

“Santana, please… The news… There's been a shooting at your high school.”

He spoke gently and his accent further softened the words, but she still felt like he’d kicked her in the stomach. “What?” she gasped, lurching up and, tangled in the blankets, nearly fell on her head.

Adam caught her. “It's on the telly….”

She ignored him, focused on one thought. They’d just gotten back together…Brittany.

**  
**  
**

The emergency room at Lima Memorial Hospital was understandably a madhouse, flooded with injuries and the families and friends of patients. Upon arrival at the hospital, Sam had been whisked off for treatment and Blaine had been forced to sit in the waiting area with crowds of other terrified people. A nurse assured him that he be updated (He had turned 18 several weeks earlier and Sam had consented for Blaine to be informed as to what was happening to him).

Still, there was so much waiting. He called Sam's dad and then Cooper to let him know he was alive and then Blaine found himself with an armful of Gracie Watson, a girl he knew from his AP history class. Her twin sister had been shot in the stomach and Gracie was covered in her blood, much as Blaine was coated in Sam's.

Soon, Gracie was gone, rushed off to a different waiting room as Gina was taken to surgery.

Not two minutes later, another ambulance arrived, carrying Kitty, who was cursing a blue streak, and Marley, who had clearly accompanied her. The young brunette didn't seem to know what to do with herself as she was abandoned in the waiting room.

“Marley,” Blaine called quietly and she turned to him, tears shining on her face. When she saw him, she flung herself into his arms and cried into his shirt as he tried not to get too much blood in her hair.

“Kitty got shot in the leg,” she sniffled. “She cried for a while, but then she got mad.”

That was a very Kitty response and Blaine dredged up a smile for her. “Sam was shot in the shoulder,” he said quietly and she gasped. “I know Tina and Sugar are okay. Have you seen any of the others?”

She nodded. “Jake, Ryder and Unique were with Signor Martinez’s rally point when I left.”

That left Joe, Brittany and Artie unaccounted for.

Blaine’s parents had raised him with any particular faith, so he'd never been one to pray, but he had no issue with sending up a quick word to whatever power there might be, asking that their friends were safe

**  
**  
**

The surgical waiting room was much quieter than the ER, but nearly as crowded, especially when people kept arriving. Artie, shellshocked, had Tina in his lap and she had Sugar in hers. Unique had pulled Marley into a hug as soon as she arrived and Jake wrapped himself around the both of them, pulling Ryder into the group embrace on the small sofa. Brittany curled herself into a ball on Blaine's lap and was being strangely quiet.

Finn and Puck were pacing the room, casting worried looks that everyone and were both clearly relieved when actual adults begin arriving. First Mr. Shue, sporting bandaged hands and knees, and Ms. P, who looked about .0001 seconds away from collapse, then Mrs. Rose and Jake's mother, Kitty's parents and Burt and Carole.

Kitty herself would be fine, as the bullet had torn through muscle, missing bone and major blood vessels. The doctors had finished her surgery quickly and she was already in recovery.

Joe didn't need surgery, though he did require a lot of stitches from where broken glass had cut him up. Mr. Shue had crawled over the shattered glass to help him, which was how he had sustained his own injuries.

Sam too would be all right in time. Though no bones were shattered, the bullet had grazed his shoulder joint, and the surgeons were working to repair the damage.

Even though they were quiet and shocky, other families were looking at them in confusion, probably wondering at the size and unusual makeup of their group.

“I talked to a reporter outside the school,” Sugar said, voice loud in the silence of the room. “I told her Sam's a hero.”

Tina and Blaine both nodded and Blaine asked, “What happened outside the library?”

Everyone was quiet until Artie said, “I was in the cafeteria with Joe and Britt when someone started shooting. The windows shattered and Joe was too close to them and he fell… Britt pulled me onto the ground and then Coach Bieste came out of nowhere and just took the gunman down. Hard.”

“Kitty and I just come out of the bathroom when people started screaming and running and there was shooting,” Marley murmured. “Kitty yelled and fell against me and I just dragged her back into the bathroom and we hid in a stall and could hear so many shots….”

“Senor Martinez locked the door as soon as we heard the first shot,” Jake offered next. “Then he busted one of the windows, you know, those stupid ones that only tilt in like 2 inches, and he told us to get away from the building and call the cops.”

“That's pretty much what Mr. Lorne did with my class,” Ryder said with a nod. “Just broke open the art room windows and started pushing us out.”

“Unique was in the gym, heading for the doors with a whole group of people when one of the shooters came in and opened fire,” she said shakily. “I thought…but then Coach Sylvester knocked him out with the shot put ball to the head and wrapped him up in a volleyball net.”

“Who were they?” Tina asked, sounding both sad and angry. “I mean, I only recognized Simon Brewer because Sam said his name, but I didn't know the other one….”

“I saw the police pushing Ray Knause into a squad car,” Ryder answered. “I heard they were five shooters.”

No one really knew the who, why or hows… They just knew nothing would ever be the same.

**  
**  
**

Two hours later, the room had emptied significantly, as most of the members of the glee club had been dragged home by concerned parents. Blaine, whose parents were on a Mediterranean cruise, remained as did Carole, Burt and Finn.

Somehow, Carole had coaxed a pair of scrubs out of a nurse and it helped Blaine clean his hands of Sam's blood before telling him to change. When Sam's parents arrived, she reasoned they didn't need to see him wearing clothes stained in their son’s blood.

She was right, of course, and he was doubly glad for intervention when Mr. and Mrs. Evans arrived with Stevie and Stacy in tow.

“Sam’s in recovery!” Blaine blurted as soon as he saw them, not wanting to make them wait one extra second. “The doctor was just here and he said everything went really well.”

Mary Evans took a shaky breath of relief and Carole gave her a tight squeeze while Blaine was startled to have Dwight Evans practically crush him in a hug. Blaine had only met the man once or twice back during sophomore year, when he and Kurt had stopped by the motel to visit Sam, and Mr. Evans had always been very nice, but very reserved.

Or perhaps that had just been the weight of his family situation at the time.

Finn looked down at Stevie and Stacy. “Why don't I take you to for ice cream and we can watch some TV?”

They frowned, but Mrs. Evans smiled. “Hospitals aren't for children, but we couldn't just leave them alone,” she agreed. “We haven't checked into a hotel yet….”

“Don't,” Blaine interrupted, then flushed. “I just… My parents are out of the country and my house has more than enough room. It'd be good to have people around.”

Mr. Evans patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, son. We’ll take you up on that.”

As the older members of the Evans family found a doctor to speak with, Blaine took his house key out of his pocket and handed it to Finn. “When you get inside, you'll have to disable the alarm. The code is 1701.”

Finn nodded and led Stevie and Stacy out, promising ice cream and candy and all manner of tooth rotting treats.

Not long after that, a painfully young nurse with an olive complexion and a dark, curly ponytail wandered in. “I'm here to let you know Sam has been moved out of recovery. He's still a bit dazed from the sedation, but he can see you,” she said with a smile, then nodded at Blaine. “I'm guessing you're Blaine?”

He blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“He asked for you. Wasn't too clear about much, but he was agitated when he couldn’t see you. Shall we?”

When they entered Sam's hospital room, the first thing Blaine noticed was that his color was far better than it had been earlier. He was lying on the bed, bad arm immobilized across his chest, a couple of IV lines plugged into the other, and monitors were beeping steadily… Still, Blaine had never seen anything that filled him with such a sense of relief.

“Oh, Sammy, baby,” Mrs. Evans said, crossing quickly to Sam's bedside and leaning down to hug him carefully as he blinked his eyes open.

“Momma,” Sam murmured, awkwardly returning her hug with his good arm, clearly trying not dislodge tubes and wires. She smothered his face with kisses for a moment before allowing Mr. Evans to take her place and give Sam the same treatment.

It was nice to see how much Sam's parents loved him. Last year, when Blaine had eye surgery, his mother had interrupted one of her trips to come home for a few days but there had been no tears and happy kisses….

He was a little surprised when Mrs. Evans drew him to Sam’s bedside and he automatically took Sam’s grasping hand. Sam gazed at him in a weird mix of relief and worry. “Is everyone okay?”

Of course Sam was worried about their friends.

“Yeah. Joe got some cuts from broken glass and Kitty was shot in the leg, but she’ll be fine. I’m surprised we can’t hear her screaming about the thread count of these sheets,” Blaine said, free fingers plucking at the rough material.

Sam smiled a little, then sighed. “We’re gonna have trouble with our dancing at Regionals.”

“Screw Regionals,” Blaine responded in Sam's eyes widened at his vehemence. “Sam, you were shot! All that matters is that you're okay. Anything else is just….”

“Gimme a hug,” Sam demanded, fingers tugging on Blaine until he leaned in and gave him a very gentle hug, terrified of hurting him. He felt a warm press of lips against his cheek and Blaine let out a shuddering breath.

“I don't know how you did what you did in there,” he said softly, still bent close, held in place with Sam's good arm. Honestly, he could shrug him off, but he didn't want to mess with the tubes and wires. “Sugar told a reporter about your heroics.”

“Would have been better if I'd been in costume.”

“We're going to talk to the nurse for a few minutes,” Mrs. Evans said and Blaine heard Sam's parents walk out of the room, shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

The room was quiet then, save for the steady beat of the monitors and Blaine shifted, still hunched over. “Were you scared?” he asked suddenly. “You didn't seem scared.”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “Terrified. Scared of dying, scared of seeing someone else die… I think that would be worse, you know? To be right there with a friend and suddenly… They're gone. Not there to smile at or talk to or share stuff. There's always things we don't say and what if… I love you, dude. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed. “I love you too, Sam.”

Sam took a shaky breath. “Everything after I got shot is a little fuzzy, but I remember thinking that, if I lived, I was going to tell you… I like you as more than a friend and I'm pretty sure I'm close to falling in love, and I'm probably not seeing this right, but please understand….”

The words were breathed in a rush against Blaine’s ear and he pulled back to look into Sam's eyes, seeing the truth there. Truth, love, hope and a hint of fear.

Leaning in, Blaine kissed him, a mirror of the kiss they'd shared in the ambulance. “When you get out of here, have dinner with me. A date,” he said and Sam smiled brilliantly.

“That would be nice,” he said, grabbing another kiss.

Life or death situations tended to put things in perspective… This time, in a good way.

**  
**  
**

Hours later, when the hospital’s visitor policies were enforced, Blaine found himself headed towards his house with Mrs. Evans (who insisted he call her Mary), while Mr. Evans (Dwight) remained at the hospital to stay overnight with Sam. Neither of them had wanted to leave, but it had been a victory to have one person remain behind instead of having to leave Sam alone and they both promised to return the next day.

Blaine had a feeling school wouldn't be open for a while.

As they drove through the dark, you're really empty streets, Mary spoke quietly. “I'm glad Sammy has you here.”

Blaine glanced at her, slightly startled. “I'm lucky to have him for a friend,” he said cautiously.

“I know my boy,” she said, giving him a smile. “He's got a good heart and just wants to be loved. He's nuts for you, I got that from how often you come up during his phone calls and today I saw you look at each other.”

Swallowing, Blaine's voice wavered a little. “Are you okay with the fact that I'm a boy?”

She chuckled. “As long as Sam's happy, Dwight and I wouldn't care if he dated and married an alpaca, so you’re just fine, sweetie.”

The number of cars in the driveway surprised both Blaine and Mary. “That’s Burt’s car and Finn’s truck… The other two are rentals… Cooper! My brother. He must have….”

Sure enough, the door flew open and Cooper popped out, grabbing Blaine in a tight hug, then holding him at arms length to look him over. “Why haven't you been answering your phone?”

“I was in the hospital, I turned it off,” Blaine answered. “Who's here?”

Cooper frowned. “Finn, Rachel, Kurt and his boyfriend -- are you okay with that? I'll totally get rid of them-- Mercedes, Kurt and Finn’s parents and two adorable blonde children who have had way too much sugar.”

Before Blaine could reply, he found himself crushed in Kurt’s arms. “Oh my God! EI knew you were okay, Finn told me, but we all freaked out we saw the news and no one was answering their phones and Sam got shot and Brittany called Santana and she was crying and Santana just went insane and then Adam just shoved us into a cab and airline security thought we were crazy and barely let us on the plane and I just need to hug you for a minute, okay!?”

“Okay,” he said, returning the embrace. Though they’d broken up and are both moving on, Blaine knew Kurt would always be an important part of his life as a dear, dear friend. “I am okay though….”

His voice cracked and Blaine felt himself start to shake. Sam was safe at the hospital and none of the younger glee kids were around to stay strong for….

Blaine hated crying in front of anyone, even Kurt, and struggled free as he felt tears on his cheeks. He swiped his face, turning away… Only to be enveloped in warm, slim arms and the scent of Dove soap and rose water.

“It's okay to cry, sweetie,” Mary cooed, rubbing his back soothingly. “Just let it out.”

She was practically radiating maternal comfort and compassion and Blaine felt the floodgates open and buried his face in her shoulder as the ugly sobbing began.

Things went a little fuzzy for a while, but when the world made sense again, Blaine found himself seated on the couch, Stacy Evans curled up on his lap, Stevie snug against his side. Mary, Burt, Carole, Finn, Cooper, Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes were huddled on the other side of the room, having a whispered conversation and Adam was perched on the coffee table, a mug in hand.

“Drink this,” he said, pressing the cup into Blaine's hand. “It'll help.”

It was tea, milky and sweet, and, after drinking half of it, he asked, “What's going on over there?”

“Oh, they're split on whether or not to try doping you with Xanax,” Adam told him with a shake of his head. “Frankly, I think it's healthier to get the anxiety out, not let it fester.”

Blaine nodded. “I'm just glad I didn't lose it at the hospital.”

“Yes, well, this is your home. You're supposed to be able to fall apart here.”

To be honest, Blaine was glad Kurt had met Adam. They seemed like a good fit for each other.

“Thanks for getting them here,” he said. “I imagine Santana was….”

“Dear Lord, she was having a full on firebreathing, snakes for hair conniption. I have little idea how to deal with her on a good day and this… This was not a good day.”

No, it was definitely not a good day.

“I was in London the day the underground bombings, back in 2005. Visiting a mate. We just got off #216 at Edgeware Road…and the ground just shook. We weren't hurt, but so many others were and I remember the sense of shock and relief and guilt.”

“Yes, Blaine agreed, nodding rapidly. “That's how I feel. How was I so close, but not even a scratch?”

“Keep thinking like that and you'll drive yourself mental,” Adam advised. “Just focus on the fact that your friends survived. Mourn for those who died and lives in a way you think would do them honor.”

Finishing his tea, Blaine glanced at the dark TV. “Has there been anything on the news about why this happened?”

“Most of the focus has been on the…” He paused, glancing at the children, who looked half-asleep, but still, “those who were hurt. Of course, some channels are all about the gunmen, but the majority are trying to not focus on them.”

That was probably a good thing, limiting the attention given to the shooters themselves.

“Have they said how many people were hurt?” Blaine asked and Adam simply frowned.

“Perhaps later….”

“Boys brought guns to your school,” Stacy intoned quietly, one of her hands catching the loose V-neck of Blaine’s scrub shirt. “Sammy got shot.”

Blaine took a breath, having no idea what Stacy and Stevie knew about their brother’s injury.

“He was, but he's okay,” Blaine assured her. “Your dad is with him now and your mom and I talked to him earlier. He'll be fine.”

“We know,” Stevie mumbled, clearly crashing down from the binge of sweets Finn had allowed them to have.

“You should be proud,” Blaine told them, patting Stacy's smooth blonde hair. “Your brother is a hero. He saved lives today.”

“Sammy's always been our hero,” Stacy told him confidently. “Now other people know.”

“Alright you two, bedtime,” Mary said, gathering up the twins, who protested unsuccessfully and were whisked off to a guest room.

Once they were out of the room, Blaine snatched up the television remote and turned on the local news. Rod Remington was standing in the parking lot at McKinley, lit by numerous floodlights, police forensics vans visible behind him… And crime scene tape. So much crime scene tape.

He clearly been in the middle of talking about the shooting and Blaine only heard the last half of the sentence. “…quiet now, but earlier today…” Before the scene changed to taped footage.

Students running across the grass, tears shining in the bright sunlight, the crack of gunfire in the distance… A student on a stretcher, being loaded into an ambulance… A Cheerio and a band kid, hugging each other and crying… Coach Sylvester, raging at the police, demanding to be let back into the school…

It was a shock for Blaine to see himself on the screen, jogging beside Sam's stretcher, blood covering his forearms. Sugar and Tina had been behind them, but remained as the ambulance sped off and a reporter pounced, brandishing a microphone.

“Can you tell us what happened in their?”

Tina stared at the woman in shock horror, but Sugar spoke. “Two boys came into the library and started shooting. Sam, our friend who got shot, he saved us. He stopped them. He's a hero.”

“What the hell are you doing!”

The brief interview ended as Sue Sylvester brought all the wrath of an angry and psychotic God down upon the reporter, threatening to eat her spleen (among other colorful statements) as Coach Washington collected Tina and Sugar and led them away.

Rod Remington appeared again. “That was Sue Sylvester, color commentator for this network, who herself apprehended one of the shooters in the gym, potentially saving the two dozen students who were there. Shannon Bieste, football coach and gym teacher, brought down yet another assailant in the gym and a student, Sam Evans, 17, quarterback, member of the swim team and member of McKinley's national championship Glee Club, subdued to additional gunmen. The final suspect was killed by police during an exchange of gunfire.”

“This is a tragic day for Lima, Ohio. Many promising young lives cut short, dozens more injured. Life here will never be the same and we are all left asking why and how could this happen again?”

“WOHN News 8 is organizing a candlelight vigil/Memorial for those wounded and killed or otherwise affected by today's events. Please show your support by coming to Buckeye Park across from Lima Memorial Hospital on Friday night at 8 PM. For now, our thoughts and prayers are with the McKinley family.”

Taking a shaking breath, Blaine muted the TV. Everyone in the room was silent until Mercedes said, “Am I the only one totally unsurprised that Coach Sylvester and Coach Bieste went all John McClane on those guys?”

That got a small smile from Finn, who said, “A Die Hard reference? Nice.”

“Who doesn't love Die Hard?” Blaine mused, then yawned. “I think I'm going to try to sleep too.”

He figured surviving a school shooting gave him a little wiggle room when it came to proper manners. Cooper could play host tonight.

As soon as his head hit his pillow, the adrenaline that had been flooding his system all day seemed to disappear and Blaine surrendered himself to sleep.

TBC…..


	2. Chapter 2

**  
**  
“Stacy! Come here!”

Mary Evans’s urgent whisper drew Blaine out of a deep sleep, enough so that he was aware of someone grabbing at his t-shirt.

“Sleeping, Momma!”

“Uh, morning,” Blaine mumbled sleepily and Stacy clambered around from behind him.

She smiled. “You’re awake!”

“Sorry,” Mary apologized. “The twins wandered out of the guest room. Stevie’s in with Kurt and Adam.”

“We like to sleep with Sammy when he’s home,” Stacy informed him somberly. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t crying again.”

Clearly, the nurturer/caregiver gene ran strong in the Evans family.

“It’s early,” Mary said. “Stacy, let Blaine go back to sleep.”

Glancing at the clock, Blaine saw that it was 7:16am and he shook his head. “No, I should get up.”

“All right, sweetie,” she replied, then waved at Stacy. “Up. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

The offer of food had Stacy flying out of bed, a flurry of blonde hair and an old, faded Nashville Pee Wee Football t-shirt.

After they left, Blaine got up, wincing as he touched his head. Sleeping in full gel always made his scalp ache…Oh, screw it.

Sam had said he thought Blaine’s hair looked cool during the Diva number. He liked the curls…Blaine could totally go a day with only anti frizz cream and curl refining serum.

After a long shower, he dressed and wandered down the stairs to find a very crowded kitchen. Mary and Adam were doing things at stove, while Kurt was cutting up orange slices for the twins. Cooper was talking with Burt and Carole, while Finn, Rachel and Mercedes were trying to be subtle about checking their phones.

Rachel was the first to notice him, bouncing out of her seat and flinging her arms around him. “I didn't get to give you a hug last night,” she breathed, squeezing him with deceptive strength. “I'm so glad you're okay!”

“Good to see you too, Rachel,” Blaine replied and she pushed him into his seat…where he immediately found himself with a lap full of Stacy and a heaping plate of food in front of him.

While he was used to the barely contained chaos that was the glee club, there were rarely loud mornings in his house. Picking at the food, he let the voices wash over him, aware of concerned, parental gazes from Mary, Burt and Carole and Cooper's carefully disguised worry.

“So, I talked to mom and dad,” Cooper told him during a din in the conversation. “Mom and Auntie Lucia are concerned and dad said to let him know if you want to go back to Dalton for the last few months school….”

“No!” Blaine practically yelped, then reined himself in. “No, I'm not running away from this.”

Everyone thankfully had the tact not to mention his little outburst. Even the children.

After breakfast, some of the mob drifted off, to work, to check in with other friends etc. Finn, Rachel and Mercedes assured Blaine that they'd be by the hospital later, as did Burt and Carole, and Blaine couldn't help but sigh in relief when they left.

The house was still more fully unusual, but it was quieter.

Adam got Stevie and Stacy settled in the living room with an offer to read them Harry Potter and Cooper disappeared to call his agent.

Having eaten enough to satisfy Mary, Blaine rose and crossed the kitchen. “Visiting hours start at nine,” he said, stepping into the large supply pantry were all the miscellaneous kitchen/food related things were kept. In the full, but organized, room, he easily located what he was looking for, a small cooler that could be plugged into a wall to function as a tiny fridge. Toting it back into the kitchen, he placed it on the counter. “I figure we can bring Sam some food that he might actually eat.”

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "The food at Lima Memorial always looked awful…and kind of smelled like cat food.”

“You weren't the one who had to eat it,” Blaine pointed out with the shudder, gathering various berries and melons to make a fruit salad. “Even the Jell-O tasted terrible.”

Between them, Blaine, Kurt and Mary put together a fruit salad, a regular salad (with chopped grilled chicken), some sliced turkey breast, a big bowl of strawberries (Sam's favorite), a couple of chocolate pudding cups, some yogurt, granola and a few bottles of organic fruit juice.

Though they were enthralled listening to Adam's reading of Harry Potter, the promise of seeing Sam sent Stevie and Stacy scrambling off to change out of their pajamas.

When they arrived at the hospital, Blaine wasn’t surprised to see a pair of news vans still sitting vigil outside. Fortunately, they were hovering on the edge of the property and not accosting anyone as they tried to enter the hospital.

At least not at the moment. A grim looking security officer was standing by the door, eyeing the vans distastefully. “You folks will have to sign in at the front desk today,” he told him with a small smile at Stevie and Stacy. “We've had a few reporters trying to sneak on-site.”

As they walked through the halls, Blaine saw lots of familiar faces, other students visiting injured friends. Nods were exchanged and there were still tears in many haunted eyes.

A burly hockey player grabbed Blaine’s arm as he passed. “Hey,” the boy said, voice a lot less belligerent than Blaine was used to hearing from him. “Tami, my girl, she was in the library. She got shot, but she survived. Tell Evans thanks, okay?”

Blaine nodded. “Of course. I'm glad Tami’s going to be all right.”

The boy thumped Blaine companionably on the shoulder and gave a quick nod before stepping back into a room.

“That guy used to throw me in dumpsters,” Kurt said quietly, causing Adam and Mary to look at him sharply. “He stopped after Karofsky’s…after what happened last year, but still….”

“Tragedy can put things in perspective,” Blaine murmured as they continued toward Sam's room.

**  
**

Always an early riser, being confined to a hospital bed did nothing to change Sam's habits. He woke, shoulder throbbing dully in time with his heartbeat, disoriented until he remembered the events of the previous day.

It hadn't been a nightmare after all.

Beside his bed, his father slept in a reclining chair (provided by Olivia, a sweet young nurse who had smiled and rolled her eyes when they attempted to charm her into providing said chair), clearly exhausted.

“About time you woke up.”

A voice startled Sam and he turned his head, looking to where Sue Sylvester was leaning against a wall, directly under a clock. The woman looked more weary than Sam had ever seen her and he said, “Uh… It's 6 AM.”

“I trained myself to survive on 27 minutes of sleep a night,” she informed him. “Too much to do. While the rest of you waste your lives dreaming, I'm being productive.”

“Okay,” Sam replied, not sure what she was getting her why she was standing there staring at him.

“Two of my girls died in the library,” Sue said suddenly and Sam felt like she had punched him in the gut. “But for other Cheerios survived what happen in there. Quite probably because of your actions. Good work.”

Sam blinked at her and pursed his lips. “Not good enough,” he murmured, picking at the sheet with his good hand. “People still died.”

“Yes, they did,” she agreed. “But you weren't the one who decided to start shooting up the school. You were however the one to take action and step up to prevent more deaths. That sort of strength deserves to be acknowledged… Though I’ll deny it if you ever mention this conversation to anyone.”

With that, she stalked out of the room and Sam blinked, looking up at the bags of medication running into his IVs and wondering if something was making him hallucinate. 

“That was surreal.”

Turning, Sam looked over at the other occupant of the room. Around 9 PM, harried looking nurse had asked if Sam would mind sharing his room with the girl. Apparently, once the sedation wore off, Kitty had been hassling the staff, specifically complaining about the fact that her roommate reeked of death, cat pee and deep fryer grease.

The staff had almost wept with relief when she settled down, not finding Sam to objectionable.

“I was wondering if she was actually here or if it was the drugs playing tricks on me,” Sam admitted, eyes roaming over her tired features. “How are you doing today?”

She sighed. “My leg hurts like a pissed off Jaguar is gnawing on it. You?”

“That sounds about right,” he agreed, then lowered his voice when his father grumbled and shifted in his sleep. “Any idea how long they're going to keep us here?”

“Couple of days for me,” she sighed, scowling down her leg, which was raised up on support of padding. “That's going to scar, I just know it.”

Yesterday had probably made a lot of scars. “Probably,” he said honestly, then glanced down at his own heavily bandaged torso. “But I think we've all got scars from what happened. Ours will just be visible.”

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded tersely. “Maybe you should try to sleep some more.”

“You too,” he said as a nurse poked her head in and gave them a concerned look.

“It's early,” she said, stepping into the room. “How's your pain? Would either of you like something for it?”

“Yes,” Kady replied immediately and Sam nodded, figuring it would help them sleep.

The nurse efficiently injected medicine into their IVs and Sam smiled a little when he saw the tiny, stuffed koala clipped to her stethoscope. It was a little embarrassing to be on the pediatric floor, but, as he was still under 18, he wasn't given any other option. He wouldn't admit it aloud to anyone, but he found the colorful scrubs (and little things like the koala clip) comforting.

As hoped, the medicine let Sam drift off into a carefree sleep and he woke hours later, blinking blearily at the sound of voices.

“Sammy!”

Even half awake, Sam smiled at the sound of Stacy's voice and opened his eyes in time to hear his father say, “No jumping on your brother!”

Stacy had made a dive for Sam, but Dad had caught her by the belt and was holding her suspended in the air as she giggled. Her yelp had caused the crowd in the room to press forward, surrounding Sam's bed, voices raised happily.

His Mom hugged him close, kissing his brow and stroking his hair as she asked, “How are you feeling today, Sammy?”

“Good,” he murmured, still numb and fuzzy from whatever had been in the shot. “Doesn't hurt.”

“Because you're getting the really good drugs,” Kitty commented from her bed. “It's about time you woke up to face the invading horde.”

Horde?

Blinking, Sam looked from his mother, to his father, Stacy, Stevie (who appeared to be wearing one of Blaine’s bowties), Blaine, Kurt, a tall stranger, Rachel, Finn, Sugar, an older man Sam thought was Sugar’s father, Marley, Mrs. Rose, Puck, Jake and Kitty’s parents.

When his mom stepped back, he was besieged by a flurry of hugs, a pat on the cheek from Mrs. Rose (who called him Sweetface), handshake from the stranger (Adam, who introduced himself) and Mr. Motta, who was one scary dude.

Seriously, the man had gripped Sam's hand and said, “My baby girl tells me you saved her life at great risk to your own. Should you ever find yourself in need of something, do not hesitate to ask. Anything you need. I mean that.”

Like something out of the Godfather… And then he disappeared without further comment.

Kitty's parents clearly had no idea what to make of them.

After the initial rush of hugs, Mom sent Dad to go get a shower and some rest in an actual bed while everyone else found seats or positions to hover in.

Marley, Jake and Sugar set on Kitty's bed with her and Puck sat on the bedside table. Mrs. Rose took a chair by Kitty's parents, while Mom claimed the chair Dad had abandoned. Stacy and Stevie sat at Sam's feet, while Blaine perched by his hip. Kurt and Finn claimed the final visitor chairs, Rachel on Finn’s knee and Adam sat on the deep window frame.

“Pretty sure you guys could find something more interesting to do than sit around a hospital,” Sam said, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

Finn snorted. “Dude, you got shot!”

Sam blinked at him. “I know. That's why I have to be here. You guys…Hey! Why are you to New York?” He asked Rachel and Kurt.

“We were worried,” Kurt said with a soft smile and Rachel nodded. 

“Plus, Santana probably would have caused an in-flight incident if we let her fly out here alone. As it was, we sat on her for most of the trip,” she said lightly. “Frankly, I'm surprised none of us were stabbed at any point.”

“She did bite me,” Adam offered, causing Kurt to look at him, clearly startled. “But it didn't even break the skin. Don't fret. She was simply scared for Brittany.”

That made Sam blinked and grab at Blaine's arm. “Is Britt okay?”

“She's fine,” Blaine assured him, wrapping his hand around Sam's and squeezing gently. “Scared and shaken up like everyone, but she wasn't hurt. In fact, Artie said she reacted really fast and pulled him down out of the line of fire when the shooting started.”  
Keeping a hold of Blaine's hand, Sam nodded. He'd been told he and Kitty had been the only two (out of their close circle of friends at least) who had been shot and Joe had needed stitches, but still…. Until he saw everyone, he'd probably be a little worried for them.

Over the next few hours, people came and went. Kitty's parents were the first to flea, overwhelmed by the general air of craziness that seemed to develop when more than a few members of the glee club congregated.

When Mercedes, Tina and Mike arrived, Mrs. Rose and Sam's mother took Stevie and Stacy down to the cafeteria for frozen yogurt.

Occasionally, a nurse would poke her head in and frown at the crowd, but shockingly, no one said anything.

“You're a hero,” Artie said when he showed up with Brittany and Santana. “No one wants to shoo your friends away.”

“But I'm not,” Sam murmured quietly. “I just…reacted and…and I killed someone! Heroes don't kill people!”

He could see surprise on a few faces. Obviously, some of the details of what had gone down were widely known.

“So you're a noir hero,” Sugar said with a shrug. “But I still think you're just a regular hero. How many other people would he have killed if you hadn't done something, Sam? He would have definitely killed you. Probably me, Blaine and Tina too. Five kids died in there with us and seven others, including you, got shot! Yes, you picked up the gun and shot one of the shooters, but you did it to protect everyone else.”

Sam knew what she said was true. Heck, the reason his dad had taken him to a shooting range and taught him how to handle a handgun was for safety and protection. Still, shooting a person, even a person bent on harming others, was still far different than putting bullets through paper silhouette.

“So… You guys all saw what happened?” Rachel asked quietly, her face somber. “I can't even imagine.”

Shifting slightly, Sam frowned. He really didn't want to talk about what had happened again. Last night, the police have spoken with him and he'd had to recount everything. He fell silent, letting the others talk and playing with Blaine's fingers….

Despite the noise, he nodded off and, when he woke, the room is cleared significantly. Kitty was drowsing in her bed, while Mom and Blaine were conversing quietly by the window. 

“Hey,” he murmured and they both looked at him quickly.

“Hi, hon,” Mom said, smoothing his hair back.

Blaine pushed the rolling table toward Sam's bed. “Are you hungry? You slept through lunch. We brought you some food from home.”

“I could eat,” Sam said as his stomach growled, letting him know that yes, food was a good idea.

Smiling, Blaine went about fussing with the tiny fridge/cooler thing he had plugged into the wall and soon Sam found himself faced with a turkey on wheat, a small salad, a bowl of strawberries and acai berry juice.

“Dude, I love you,” Sam breathed with a smile and Blaine's cheeks took on a rosy hue.

“Love you too,” Blaine replied and Sam's mother patted his shoulder.

Turning to Sam, she said, “I like Blaine.”

Okay, so Mom knew. “Me too,” he assured her and, reaching out, tugged Blaine over to sit with him on the bed.

“Finally,” Kitty mumbled from her bed, “the sappy, heart eyes and embarrassment finally end! Resolve that tension.”

Sam sputtered as Blaine sighed and Mom laughed.

“I like her too.”

“Can we bribe you into behaving with food?” Blaine asked her and Kitty smiled.

“Yes. The gruel and slime they serve for breakfast was disgusting and lunch was worse.”

Sam laughed when she hugged Blaine when he gave her a salad with grilled chicken.

**  
**

Life slowly went back to normal. Kitty, then Sam were released from the hospital, friends disbursed back to their own lives, the rest of the Evans clan went back to Kentucky… And, finally, two weeks later, McKinley High reopened.

There had been much discussion, but, in the end, the school board decided they couldn't afford to close the school and rebuild. This resulted in some students choosing to transfer, but others felt like returning was a step toward recovery.

News vans clustered around the edge of McKinley's campus, but if you stationed police officers kept him away from the returning students.

“This feels weird,” Artie said as Tina pushed him toward the doors, the rest of the club clustered around them.

Murmurs of agreement rose up from many of the other students (not just the glee club), as the school looked the same but they knew it was different.

Things had changed. People died and those who lived had all found this new world thrust upon them.

Kitty was on crutches, already very nimble. Her Cheerios skirt did nothing to disguise the white bandage wrapped around her thigh.

Most of Joe's stitches had come out a few days earlier, but the stark red scars stood out on his pale skin.

Sam's own wounds were hidden by his clothes, though the sling was very obvious.

Stepping into the building, Sam felt Blaine go tense beside him. “You okay?” he asked, trying to see what had upset Blaine. There were new lock yours and paint (probably because of bullet holes or marks) but nothing too shocking.

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed, shaking himself. “There was just so much blood the last time I was here.” 

With a grimace, Sam realized he was probably lucky to of been so out of it when the paramedics wheeled him out of school. He hadn't had to see any of the carnage.

“We're okay,” Sam murmured, folding his hand around Blaine’s and squeezing reassuringly.

On his other side, he felt Sugar’s little fingers clench into the fabric of his shirt and he saw Brittany grab Blaine’s free hand. All around them, the others found ways of linking themselves together, taking comfort in their friends.

And they were the only ones.

Students who previously would never exchange words smiled at each other, touched each other's arms, hugged. Arms were linked in there was a strange sense of unity.

Dumas, an asshole from the hockey team, nodded to Sam and didn't even glare when he saw that Blaine and Sam were holding hands.

All of them, the entire school were linked by tragedy. After seeing such horror, it was like the struggle for dominance at school became irrelevant.

A varsity football player known to be a bully stopped and helped the freshman pick up spilled books.

Teachers lingered in the halls (or, in Coach Sylvester's case, prowled them), watching students with kind or worried eyes. Mr. Foquette, the French teacher, was walking with a limp caused by a bullet that clipped his calf and Mrs. Mahoney, who had been Sam's English teacher sophomore year, was gone, had died trying to protect a student.

Bandages, slings, crutches and empty seats. Oddly quiet halls and subdued students.

In time, perhaps things would return to normal, but not yet.

In the moment, everyone was merely glad to survived and the lucky ones hadn't lost anyone they loved, though they were fully aware how close death had come.

As soon as Sam had been allowed out of bed, he went to the hospital chapel and thanked God for sparing his friends and prayed for those who had died.

Died because a group of students snapped under the pressure of school, bullies and life in general. He didn't know how anyone thought killing others would make things better, but maybe there were some things it was better not to know.

All he needed were his friends and his family and he had both.

On a lovely day, shots rang out in the halls of McKinley High. One had lodged in Sam's shoulder, but he had survived and was again walking the halls of his school with his friends.

That was something to sing about.


End file.
